The Twilight Border
by Princess Marva
Summary: Ed finds himself on a strange new side of the Doors. Having never resigned himself to being unable to get back, he goes about his research in the best way he can. But it's not that simple; the boundary that the Doors created is failing. On hold.
1. No World For Strangers

Title: The Twilight Border

Rating: T (for now)

Genres: Adventure/Angst

Full Summary: After his attempt to escape Gluttony's fake Doors of Truth, Ed finds himself on a strange new side of the real Doors. Having never resigned himself to not being able to get back, he goes about his research in the best way he can, as an alchemy teacher at a school that's more than ordinary. But it's not as simple as just continuing on. The boundary that the Doors created for him is failing, and the nightmares from his past, which he had just convinced himself were _only_ nightmares, are coming back for him. What sort of a resolution will be found in the twilight border between worlds? Crossover.

Author's Note: This is probably the most complete idea I've had for a Fullmetal Alchemist crossover story yet. I've gone through idea after idea, but had no luck with them. Hmm. Well, let's hope for better luck with this one!

Timeline-wise, this starts right after chapter… 53 or 54 of the Fullmetal Alchemist manga, and is AU from there out. In Harry Potter, it's mostly compliant to Order of the Phoenix (book 5), right up until the end.

* * *

Chapter 1: No World For Strangers

-

-

"…_This is part of the Xerxes ruins. These things are inside Gluttony…" The blonde turned to glare over his shoulder at the monstrous dragon-like creature that was Envy's true form. "To get rid of the evidence, right?" he accused. "I'm starting to understand what you bastards did at Xerxes."_

_-_

"… _These are all the pieces I can find." Envy nudged another piece of the fractured stone into the glow of the torch that Ling clutched._

_The Xingese prince held the torch closer to the stone as Ed bent down to examine the writing. "So these are all parts of the Xerxes ruins?" he queried._

_Ed nodded. "Yeah. This is the mural of the temple," he said. Mentally, he was comparing it to the transmutation circle he had seen back in the Fifth Laboratory, but he knew that it wasn't quite the same._

_-_

_He had figured it out – they would escape from Gluttony by way of human transmutation. Ed was totally confident in his theory, in spite of the fact that it was only that: a theory. He understood what had happened in Xerxes, and overall he might think that this was a huge success, that it put him closer to the Stone than he had been… but all he wanted, right at that moment, was to be out of there._

_Envy's tongue was hanging out, a disgusting sight in and of itself, but made worse by Ed's newfound knowledge of how his true form had come around. But a moment later, he had put his hands together, and the handmade circle was glowing with alchemical energy._

"_Long time no see," Ed whispered as he sunk into the grasp of the Doors' reaching fingers._

-

Ed knew, unconsciously, that such a simple plan wouldn't work out properly. He knew it when he pressed his hands to the circle, he knew it when he found himself in front of Al's body, he knew it when he was drug bodily by the tiny, grabbing hands through a different door. He particularly knew it when he felt the gravity rotate, from pulling him down to pulling him onto his back… and he knew it most when he could see a cloudy sky, gray with the promise of rain, laid over with a gigantic golden echo of the circle that he had used to escape with Envy and Ling from Gluttony's fake Doors of Truth.

To Ed, it was as if his gravity was reduced, he thought, or time just seemed slower – as he fell, long and slow, to the ground that he didn't dare look over his shoulder to see. But when he landed heavily on the hard ground, time came rushing back at full speed. He was sore, he knew, from both his arm (the splint that Ling had so thoughtfully made was broken now), and from the hard landing – he had caught his back on something solid, and it had flipped him over on the way down, so now he was lying on his side. His vision was so blurry, and he thought for a moment that he would cough up blood, but the impulse passed quickly. Ed could hear people's voices, whispering in a worried and gossipy fashion, though actually hearing and understanding the words was beyond him at that point.

As he struggled to his hands and knees, trying to lift his head in order to get a look at his location, he felt the cough come upon him again, and this time he did as his body insisted, bringing up the crimson stuff that splattered horribly on what he could barely see was a street, paved roughly with irregularly-shaped gray stones. But it was the last thing he saw before he passed out, landing awkwardly on his injured wrist as he collapsed.

-

When Ed hauled himself forcefully from his barely-there slumber, his first thought was that his wrist no longer hurt. He raised his left hand, staring at it through blurry eyes. He could see little, but knew that he wasn't wearing his long-sleeve shirt or gloves. And that meant that somebody who didn't need to, now knew about his automail. With a sigh, the older Elric let his eyes close. _Something really didn't work, _he thought. _Envy and Ling weren't there… I wonder if they got through, and I got lost somehow. That's the only solution…_

After a few moments, he heard people speaking about him. Or so he assumed, judging from how the conversation progressed.

"I understand your concern, Minerva. But this person, whoever he is, has skill. I'm not sure where he came from, or why we didn't find him before, but he's here now."

"But Albus! I understand that you try to be trusting and open-minded, but this is just too much. A boy appears in Diagon Alley, not two months after you-know-who is back, and you say he's got magic. So you want to invite him to the school? I must protest!"

Ed's mind was immediately set to grappling with what she had said. Somebody whom he was supposed to know (but didn't) was back, he supposedly had 'magic,' and then these two were talking about a school. It was more than enough to make any self-respecting alchemist like himself say, _what?!_

"Protest all you like. I've my mind made up, and I am _still_ the Headmaster. Besides, I can't tell how old he is – he'd be short for an eighteen-year-old, but if that's indeed the case, then my offer is null. You know that."

_Short—Why they…_ The blonde's metal hand clenched tightly enough in the thin white sheets to potentially tear them, but he knew discretion, and let go as soon as he felt the ripping-force strain. _I'm not eighteen… for crying out loud, what _are_ they talking about?_

"I do know that. Very well, since I can't stop you… But understand, Headmaster, that I in no way condone this choice of action."

At that moment, Ed heard one pair of footsteps approaching him, though he still couldn't see clearly enough to tell who it was; the man or the woman. So he simply slid back into the bed a little, and closed his eyes, setting his breathing to make it seem like he was asleep.

The person wasn't fooled. They stopped at the edge of his bed, and leaned over him – Ed's eyelids twitched slightly as their shadow fell over him – and said, "I know you're awake." That revealed that it was indeed the man.

Having had his bluff called, Ed opened his eyes sheepishly and sat up. He stared, eyes opened wide, at the person – he could only make out very vague colors. A skin tone here, white there (a very long beard perhaps?), and a generally cone-shaped amount of blue. Everything else was brown and gray, but Ed thought that that was part of the room. "Who are you?" he asked warily.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the man said cheerily. The top part of the blue cone tilted sideways, suggesting that the man had cocked his head in that direction. "May I ask your name?"

Ed frowned, and turned to squinting in an attempt to clear the image of the man. It worked only marginally – he could see that there were silver splotches on the blue. But it hurt his eyes, looking through his eyelashes like that, so he quit. "It's Edward Elric," he said. "Uh, look, where am I exactly? I kinda… got lost."

Albus's voice had a general twinkle about it as he said, "You're in London, England. More specifically, in the inn by the name of the Leaky Cauldron, right off Diagon Alley."

"… I've never heard of any of that," the alchemist grumbled. "How far is it to Central?"

"I've lived in England for longer than you would probably guess, and I don't know of any place in the world that's called Central. Are you sure that's the name of the place?"

_That just confirms it,_ Ed thought. _I'm in a much different place than just another part of Amestris. Even Ling, coming straight from Xing, knew Central. I'd guess that the people in Drachma do, too, though I've never been there._ "Do you even know where Amestris is?" he asked wearily, just for good measure.

"No," was the completely not-a-surprise answer he received. "You do speak with a mostly German accent; maybe it's from a part of Germany where I haven't been. It's a fairly good-sized country, after all."

This only served to tick Ed off. "I don't know what Germany is, either. Geez, looks like I ended up even _further_ off the mark." He mumbled to himself, "How many places can the Doors lead to?"

Ed didn't suppose that Albus heard him, judging from what the old man said next. "Well, regardless of where you are from! It seems to me that you are in possession of an ability that we here call magic. If you don't mind me asking, Edward, what do you know of magic?"

"That it doesn't exist," Ed responded bluntly. "What kind of joke is that? It's not even funny. 'Magic,' there's no way something like that could exist. Everything is explainable by science." He blinked a couple times, and then scowled. How annoying was this – he _still_ couldn't see. He lifted his automail hand in front of his face. When it was within two inches of his face he could see it clearly, but any further away and it was blurry again. He felt his head begin to ache from changing the focus of his eyes so many times over again.

Albus seemed to notice the youth's headache-inducing attempts to clear his vision. "Well, since you seem rather set on your way of thinking, I suppose we had better first go to Diagon Alley and buy you some glasses. It seems like your vision is a little worse than you're used to, Edward, my boy." He chuckled slightly at the face Ed pulled.

"I don't need glasses," the alchemist said grumpily. "This is just because I hit my head yesterday. I'll get all healed – no idea how my arm got fixed overnight – and then I'll be able to tell you what color your eyes are right at the edge from the other side of the train station." But he rolled out of bed regardless, his will to see stronger than his pride at that time. "So, what'd you do with my clothes?" He stared down at himself, in his boxers and undershirt.

Again with the chuckle, and mister pointy-blue-coney-shape bent slightly, picking up the neatly-folded stack of cloth that was, indeed, Ed's outfit. "I got it cleaned for you," he said hospitably. "It was quite bloody, if you get my drift. I doubt that much of it was actually yours, since my healer-in-chief didn't find it necessary to give you a blood replenishing potion."

With a glare, Ed snatched up his clothes, and hurriedly got dressed. This not being able to see was, frankly, humiliating. The faster his eyesight was back up to par, the _better_.

-

Ed was frustrated. Here he was, walking through a brand spanking new, completely unfamiliar place, and he couldn't see an inch of it. All he could do was follow almost blindly behind the odd person wearing blue robes with silver stars (he was walking close enough behind Albus now to recognize the shape), until they came to a shop. The sign had white letters and a black shape on it, none of which Ed could in any way distinguish.

They stepped inside, and Ed didn't even glance up; just kept his eyes on the floor, and the hem of Albus's robe. He heard the elderly man talking with the store owner, though he evidently wasn't included in the conversation.

"… young man needs glasses."

"He attending Hogwarts?"

"We have yet to see that, but he does have the ability, whether he chooses to or not."

"Alright then. May I?"

"Go ahead, sir!"

Ed looked up as the owner stepped up to him. He was taller than Ed – but it's not like that wasn't a surprise, was this a country of giants or something? – and as far as Ed could tell, had brown hair, and didn't wear glasses. The blonde wasn't sure why he had assumed that this stranger would wear glasses, but assume he had, so it served to set him off a little.

The man's speech told Ed that he was smiling. "So, young man, I'm going to perform a spell now to figure out exactly what your prescription should be. Is that alright with you?"

Ed just shrugged, and said rather frumpily, "Fine. Convince me that this isn't a hoax." He folded his now-gloved hands over his chest, quite determined to figure out the trick that this man would try to use.

But all that happened was that he suddenly found a wooden stick in his face – it made him jump slightly – and waved it in several quick, tight circles, muttering a word that Ed couldn't rightly hear, and guessed that it wasn't in whatever the name was for the language he was currently speaking (nobody had worried about that in Amestris, since there really was only one language). Ed didn't feel anything, and was about to say something degrading to match, but the man cut off that plan by making a pleased noise and rushing off.

It wasn't five minutes later before the man came running back. "Alright," he said happily, "Now all that's left is to pick out the frames!" He grabbed Ed's arm (the flesh one, luckily), and pulled him over to one end of the shop. Ed leaned in, and could make out rows and columns of metal frames, in every shape and color he could think of to make glasses in, as well as several he couldn't (_how_ many points did those star-shaped glasses have, now?). He picked out the first pair he found, and set them on his nose rebelliously.

Albus had come over at that point, and Ed turned to face him, looking for his opinion, since it wasn't like he'd be able to make a decision looking in the mirror at himself. From the movement of the Headmaster's pointed hat – as Ed had reasoned it was – he disapproved. "Too wide across," he said, "And definitely not a complimenting shape." Ed promptly set them back on the hook – he agreed completely.

"Try something rectangular," the shop owner suggested, and turned to the wall. He reached out seemingly at random, and pulled a pair off. They were smaller than the ones Ed had tried on first, and he felt a jab of annoyance and squashed the desire to say to the shop owner, _are you suggesting by giving me small glasses that I'm smaller than average,_ and just put the frames on his face.

This time, he immediately felt more comfortable with them – they weren't weighing down on his nose, and fit in the right place, like the others hadn't. The other two immediately agreed that they were right, after getting a good look. Ed took them off his face and examined the frames closely. They were silver, and rectangular, with well-squared sides. The top of the frame was left unclosed, so the glass would be exposed there.

Albus agreed to pay for the frames, and anything else that Ed may need for that matter, since Ed didn't have any money here (and they both agreed that it wouldn't go well if he asked somebody to withdraw from an account that didn't exist). The shop owner only took a couple minutes to fix up the glass, and when Ed set the frames on his face again, he was surprised that they were very little heavier, and the glass was thin, in spite of the strong prescription he knew he must have required. When he raised a questioning eyebrow at the shopkeeper, he grinned secretively and said, "Magic."

As soon as Ed walked outside, he found himself in the middle of the culture shock that he had been waiting for to catch up with him. All around him, people in robes and pointed hats of every color and variety were walking, talking, shopping, socializing, gossiping, casting spells, and generally acting like a community built on (completely illogical) _magic_. He was glad that he could now read the names on the shops, since they told him a surprisingly large amount about the place. Directly across from him, he could see a tall, wobbly-looking building, which claimed to be called Gringott's. He wondered about it – the architecture seemed much different than the higgledy-piggledy shops that the rest of Diagon Alley consisted of. When asked, Albus said that it was a bank, run by the goblins who had built it themselves.

The duo found their way quickly back to the Leaky Cauldron, where this time Ed got to take a good look as Albus opened the brick wall. It fascinated him, the way the bricks slid around and rearranged themselves so smoothly. He could have gotten the same effect with alchemy, but it wouldn't be nearly so smooth or showy; it would be the normal alchemy, with the flow more like some viscous substance than giving the objects their own life and movement.

For the most part, Ed found it most convenient to ignore the generally dim, less-than-outstanding conditions of the inn as he walked through the pub downstairs, concentrating more on whether or not he accepted the idea of magic. He had seen undeniable proof – now possessed some of that proof sitting on the bridge of his nose – but in spite of that, could he believe something that would, potentially, disprove his whole life's truth? Equivalent exchange demanded that he offer this strange Headmaster _something_ for giving him such quality glasses – he had taken a peek at the money that Albus had handed over, even though the old man tried to conceal it with his sleeves, and no matter the monetary system, that much gold was _never_ worth a small amount. Would equivalent exchange come out to willingly acknowledging magic, and the implications that came with it?

Back in the room that he assumed was 'his' for the time being, he sunk onto the bed to think those same thoughts. When Albus said to him casually, 'a penny for his thoughts,' he supposed that he might as well speak up.

"… I'm an alchemist," he said plainly. "My entire life has been led believing in equivalent exchange, and has been bound by the laws of alchemy and equivalent exchange. Magic… from what I've seen of it… obeys less than half of the laws, and from what little I've seen, doesn't even make sense by equivalent exchange. I suppose you could understand why I'm wary of this. If I believe in this, and it's not true, where does that leave me?"

Albus nodded understandingly, ice blue eyes twinkling with a strange satisfaction, and Ed continued blandly. "I'm considered one of the greatest alchemists in a long, long time. I've fought monsters created by alchemy; committed the greatest sin you can in my culture, with alchemy; and it was alchemy that, for five years of my life, I intended to use to rectify what happened in that mistake. I haven't succeeded yet. I don't know hardly anything about magic, but if it has a chance of doing what I haven't found a way to do with alchemy yet, then I'm at least willing to give it a shot."

He sighed, and fell back on the bed, eyes closed, twirling his glasses with one hand. "That said, I really don't want to be a student, in any condition," he said airily. "I don't suppose you can come up with some insight on that, mister Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of some school which I haven't heard the name of yet?"

Ed supposed that he might find that perpetual glimmer in the old man's eye to be aggravating, if it wasn't working with him at that moment in time. "I believe I can," Albus stated gleefully. "You say that you're a great alchemist, and I believe you; my boy, you don't seem like someone who would brag so calmly. So here is my proposition. I formally invite you, Edward Elric, to come to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to teach a new subject there: Alchemy."

Promptly, the blonde teenager sat up, all of his hyper attention and eagerness standing on end. "Well, I didn't expect that," he said, satisfied. "A teacher, huh? Well, I daresay I taught Al half of what he knows," that much was probably a brag, "and they _do_ say that the best way to learn something is to teach it. I completely accept!"

"Then welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Elric," Albus said, extending his hand. Ed took it with his automail one, and they shook on it.

As they say, out with the old and in with the new; Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, had just been kicked to the curb temporarily, replaced for the time being with Edward Elric, professor of alchemy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist, except my own copies of the Fullmetal Alchemist volumes and my copies of the Harry Potter books and movies.


	2. This Isn't Kansas, Dorothy

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist, except my own copies of the Fullmetal Alchemist manga volumes and my copies of the Harry Potter books and movies.

Author's Note: Why hello there! I'm already at chapter two, huh? Well, don't expect great things from me, update speed-wise, but here I am as your authoress. Yoroshiku!

-

Chapter 2: This Isn't Kansas, Dorothy

-

-

"_Al!" he shouted, reaching forward even as the clinging black arms pulled him towards the Doors. "Al! Al, come! Hurry!"_

_The skinny, tawny-haired boy smiled at his brother. "I can't," he said peacefully. "You… aren't my soul." A smile spread across his face, even as Ed was pulled deeper into the creaking-closed gate. "I can't go with you."_

_Ed cursed loudly, struggling against the arms to get to his brother's body; that which he had been reaching for those long five years. "Dammit! Alphonse! Someday… I swear, I'll come and take you back!" The Doors were almost shut now, but he pointed through them at his smiling brother; "You wait."_

_When it was shut, all signs gone, and the three Gates of Truth faded, Alphonse was still smiling. "I'll be here, Brother," he whispered, closing his hazel eyes. "But it'll take longer than you think."_

-

"… was convicted on both charges and sentence to six months in Azkaban." Ed looked up from the Daily Prophet article that he was reading, just long enough to take a sip of the cup of coffee in front of him. He winced at the flavor – it was about on par with the tea that Mustang's bunch cooked up – but took another gulp anyway. "Tom," he complained loudly, "This is pretty nasty. What were you doing when you tried to do the spell?"

Tom said gruffly, "Th' coffee's perfectly fine, Ed. You're just picky, y' are," and then went back to sweeping the floor. Ed rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, he just folded up the newspaper and tucked it under his arm, picked up the ceramic mug, and trudged towards the stairs, heading for his room.

Inside, he set the newspaper down on the cluttered desk he had asked Tom to set up for him. It was stacked high with books from all seven years at Hogwarts, as well as several others, detailing life in the wizarding world. Ed had even looked into the curriculums of two other magic schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, but the books hadn't been written in English, so he couldn't understand any of it. On top of the dresser, as well as inside of it with his clothes, were numerous past editions of the Daily Prophet. The newer editions that had been delivered to him by owl, such as the one he had been reading in the pub earlier, were next to his bed.

Ed sighed heavily as he fell back onto the bed, careful not to spill the half-full mug of coffee that was still in his hand. He set it on his chest, and undid his hair from the constricting braid. It had grown in the space of a little less than a month, and putting it into a braid was getting tedious, so more and more often he would put it up in a simple ponytail, or leave it loose. Of course, he generally avoided going out into Diagon Alley with his hair like that, since on many occasions, he had been mistaken for a girl and had teenagers, some of whom would probably be his students soon, come up and try to flirt with him. The expression he received when he turned around was only funny the first time.

Albus had stopped by a few times since Ed had agreed to teach, to chat or give advice. They had talked about a whole range of things, from how Ed's automail functioned to planning how his lessons would go. The latter had been a considerable worry on Ed's part, since he didn't want to forcibly teach anybody who didn't want to be in his class, and certainly didn't want to try to teach eleven-year-olds who wouldn't be able to grasp half of what he said (perhaps part of that hesitation came from his unwillingness to give them the tools to make the same mistake he had). So the resolution was that he would only teach those from year four and older, and they had to sign a piece of paper saying that they wished to be in the class.

A majority of Ed's time was spent learning as much as he could, as fast as he could. Whether it was absorbing the information in the school-issue textbooks that he had bought in Flourish and Blott's, or skimming through old newspaper articles and history books, or reading up on the current news, there were always words in front of his face. But in the small amount of time that he took away from his work, he would wander around Diagon Alley. His favorite place to go was the Magical Menagerie, because seeing all the cats reminded him of Al. Several times, he had been sitting there playing with a particular cat, and someone would come up and ask him why he was crying. He would dry his eyes as discreetly as he could and tell them to go away, of course he wasn't crying.

The day came quickly, however, when he had to travel to Hogwarts, to set up his assigned classroom before term started. It was only a few days away, the start of term was, and most of the teachers had already returned to the school from their summer vacations. Ed didn't have very many things to set up, since chalkboards and desks were supplied, and he didn't exactly have a curriculum to follow. Ed had looked through Flourish and Blott's from end to end, and found nothing more than sparse articles mentioning magically-empowered rip-offs of alchemy that _still_ didn't follow equivalent exchange. He couldn't even find a basic alchemy book! He considered publishing one, but that would take time, time that he didn't have before term would begin. By the time he had agreed to teach, after all, the students had already received their supply lists. So he would have to teach them by hand.

On the day he was supposed to leave, Ed packed up all of his things as best he could. Into a trunk he put most of his clothes, a maintenance kit for his automail that he had picked up in the Muggle street outside The Leaky Cauldron, and several books that he would want to read before the rest of his luggage was dropped off at Hogwarts. When he dropped the key off with Tom, he said to the man, "I guess somebody's going to come to pick up the rest of my stuff, so don't try to let anyone stay in my room until that's happened. And I was really just giving you grief about the coffee, I swear, it was fine." The last part was a fib, but there's nothing wrong with a tiny white lie when it makes someone like Tom smile in that sort of goofy way.

In the Muggle district, Ed had to ask directions several times before he reached King's Cross station. Platform nine, he had been told, was the place that someone would meet him to show him where the train would leave from. Ed had read _Hogwarts: A History_, which talked about Platform Nine and Three Quarters, and understood how to get into the platform, so he wasn't sure why someone would need to come meet him. He supposed it was just a security measure on Albus's part, since You-Know-Who (whom Ed had read quite a bit about) was supposedly back in power, and Ed hadn't been very specific about alchemy – Albus probably didn't know whether it was useful in dangerous situations or not.

He quickly spotted the person he was supposed to meet. It was a girl, or more accurately a young lady, with a fairly outstanding shade of purple hair that could not _possibly_ have been natural. She was jumping up and down, waving at him, and shouting, "Ed! Edward Elric!"

With a sigh, the blonde pushed his way through the throng of comers and goers as politely as he could. When he reached her, he nodded to her. "I'm Edward," he said. "Who're you?"

"Tonks," she said happily, making a half-curtsey, half-bow. "How old are you? You really going to be a teacher? You're awfully short for someone who's graduated." She ducked sideways as Ed took a hidden-metal swing at her face.

"I'm not short," he gritted out from behind clenched teeth. "I haven't 'graduated,' either. I'm sixteen. I never went to school, and I don't intend to start, so Albus offered me a position teaching. There, that's the entire story – can we get going? I don't want to miss the train right off the bat."

Tonks grinned, and tipped her fingers in a sort of salute that Ed, having been in the military, found surprisingly annoying. But he said nothing, just followed her through the magical barrier that led straight to the phantom Platform Nine and Three Quarters. He was surprised a little at the sudden appearance of the Hogwarts Express, but his awe was run over as quickly as his toes when Tonks, now pulling his luggage, cut right in front of him. "Let's go, shorty," she said gleefully, jogging towards the wagon-red train.

Squashing the urge to yell and scream at the purple-haired woman, Ed followed her onto the train. It was deserted, and he expected nothing less, since the term hadn't begun yet. So the duo took a compartment right next to the door they entered by, since there really wasn't a need to walk all the way to the front or back of the train.

If they had, though… If they had…

-

"You're going to teach alchemy, right?"

Ed looked up in annoyance from the third-year Potions book he was reading intently. "Yes, I am," he grumbled. "It's going to be a pain, too. I learned alchemy from a basic-level book that is published pretty commonly in my country, but they don't even have any solid facts on alchemy in any book I found in Flourish and Blott's." He buried his face in the book again, trying to concentrate on the purposes of the ingredients in the list.

He winced as Tonks's voice sounded again, breaking his concentration completely. "So you're just going to teach it off-the-wing?" she said curiously. "That's some memory. I doubt even Professor McGonagall could teach Transfiguration without the books. Or that Snape could recite the ingredients list for any potion without looking at it written down."

"Look," Ed grumbled, "Memorization is part of my job. Memorizing what symbols to put on a transmutation circle to make it work, memorizing what is usually found in a certain alloy of metal, memorizing how to write my notes. I analyze, I break down, I reconstruct. Remembering enough to teach a beginner-level class – no, perhaps lower – it's not an object of memory or concentration." He didn't mention the years of alchemical knowledge that had been forced into his mind during his first trip to the Doors of Truth. That wasn't information you passed out to every curious punky-haired girl who didn't even ask in the first place.

Tonks didn't say anything after that, a fact by which Ed was privately relieved, and he slowly sunk into the book again for the remainder of the train ride (the latter part of which his face was _actually_ in the book, since he fell asleep while reading). When Tonks shook his shoulder to wake him up as soon as the train was beginning to slow, he sat up sleepily.

"Wuh? Are we there, Al?" But he didn't see Al's shining metal out of his peripheral vision, which was cloudy as it was, thanks to his glasses having slipped down his nose. The blonde looked up, nudging his glasses back in place, and his eyebrows drew together slightly as he saw Tonks. _I miss him,_ Ed lamented. _I'm sorry I'll be gone so long, Al… but when I get to hug you next, it'll be your real body, not that suit of armor. I swear._

Neither one spoke as they got off the train and stepped into the rather depressing, rainy, foggy weather that had fallen over the train station. It was empty, as silent as a graveyard except for the grating chirp of a cricket somewhere nearby that fancied singing in the downpour that was no doubt all around. Ed sighed heavily, half missing the hot weather that he had complained about in Lior. He preferred sweating day-in and day-out than constantly feeling like a drowned rat, which was exactly the impression he was getting. But Tonks was moving on, up a slope towards a carriage that Ed could see vaguely through the fog.

When he got close, though, Ed saw something disturbing: whatever it was really, it looked like an attempted chimera, perhaps the product of a cross between a horse and a bat, judging from the leathery black wings. But the thing was practically a skeleton, and he would have thought so in the dim fog, but for the evident black color that covered it. "… What is that?" he asked Tonks warily, before noticing that there was another one right beside it, harnessed to the carriage in kind. "What are _those_? Chimeras?"

Tonks raised an eyebrow at him. "You can see them, huh?" she said, more a statement than anything like a question. Of course he could see them, he would have asked instead how the carriages pulled themselves if he couldn't. "They're Thestrals. They live in the Forbidden Forest most of the time, but they pull the carriages. I'm sure that Hagrid has given these two names, but he's not here right now, and I couldn't be bothered to remember them, considering how infrequently I come around here."

_Thestrals,_ Ed mused. _Thestrals. So not chimeras. Some magical creature that I haven't read about._ A grimace passed over his face. _The bastards who make chimeras would love to get their hands on some of these creatures. It'd give them so many new possibilities for making poor, deranged chimeras._ Tonks was climbing into the carriage, so he followed her wordlessly, still absorbed in his thoughts about chimeras. He wasn't even sure if using a magical creature in bio-alchemy would work, but he wasn't likely to try and see. Leave that to one of his idiot students, once they got a hang of it enough to 'accidentally' transmute their pet cat together with their friend's pet toad. _I suppose that in some ways, what Scar did to Nina was mercy._ But he immediately shook that thought off.

Soon enough, the two were at the castle door. Tonks walked right up to the tall, wooden face and kicked it oh-so-politely. "Dumbledoooore," she hollered, though Ed was fairly sure that her voice, loud as it was, wouldn't be heard from inside… the door looked thick, and as an alchemist, he could guess these types of things.

But the world did love to prove him wrong, he figured, as the door began to creak open, reminding Ed horribly of the Doors for a split second. However, sure enough, Albus was there on the other side instead of the ghostly negative-space figure, smiling warmly instead of grinning sardonically, and holding his arms out to welcome the two of them. "Welcome to Hogwarts," he said cheerily.

-

Ed stared at the staff room door, suddenly feeling a little hesitant. In every adventure, there is a point after which you can't turn back, and Ed was sure that this was it – this unremarkable door, behind which the rest of the Hogwarts staff waited. _I really hope I can get you back to normal, Al,_ he thought, before taking a deep breath and turning the doorknob.

The room was fairly nondescript, and Ed didn't bother it a second glance; it reminded him of Mustang's office, a place that he had never _liked_ being. He instead put his concentration on the people, whom Albus introduced in short order. "Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher," was a woman that Ed decided he didn't want to cross if he liked his nose the shape it was. "Professor Snape, the Potions master," had a sour face, but he taught Potions, which from what Ed had read would be his favorite subject, so he couldn't be all bad. "Professor Flitwich, the Charms teacher," was so short that Ed immediately liked him – his cheery disposition helped, too. "Professor Grubbly-Plank, temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher," was a strange-looking woman, whom Ed couldn't form an opinion one way or another. "Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher," was also rather short, and also looked very nice, so Ed thought he could get to like her. "Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher," looked ridiculous behind her huge glasses, but still seemed nice enough. "Professor Umbridge, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," looked unpleasant, and gave Ed his first impression of what a toad/human chimera would look like. And there were several others, who were either preoccupied or hadn't arrived at Hogwarts yet, whom Ed would no doubt meet at the opening feast.

After a brief tour of the castle, which left Ed exhausted from trying to remember where everything was in conjunction with saying 'hello' to every painting that tried to get his attention along the way (that is, a majority of them)… all that the oldest Elric wanted to do was fall asleep. And he said as much; Albus laughed politely, and said, "Well then, I'll show you your classroom, office, and sleeping quarters!" Ed thought that that sounded like a wonderful idea. He paid little attention to the rooms on his way through, resolving to check it out first thing after he woke up. With that thought… he fell asleep, fully clothed, on his new bed.

-

Ed woke up later in the day with that strange feeling that you get after falling asleep in your clothes. Seeing that his luggage had all been delivered and was sitting at the foot of his bed, he got up and changed.

After that, Ed finally took the opportunity to look around the room. It was fairly plain, with the bed and nightstand in one corner and a wardrobe in the opposite corner, a desk on the wall parallel to his bed, and the door directly past the foot of the bed. Ed was slightly disappointed that there was no bookshelf, but decided that it would be easy enough to ask for a pile of wood so he could make his own. Why not? Ed took the time to unpack his clothes and put them in the wardrobe, tucking the maintenance kit into his sock drawer. He took the time to pack several of his books on the desk, the ones that he would be reading most frequently, and then shut his suitcases again.

He stepped out of his bedroom, and was in the official Alchemy professor's office. It was bare, except for a desk, a chair, and a bookcase (ah, so that was where the bookcase had gone to!). Ed frowned pensively; this seemed like the type of space that would be highly personalized by whoever lived there. So personalize it he would; probably with sketches of transmutation circles, actually. He thought that they made nice decorations; either kept people guessing if they didn't know what it meant, or made a good conversation starter if they did. And maybe he would leave the bookcase in here, anyway.

On he went, to his classroom. Again, it was fairly empty; just a plain chalkboard, a desk and chair, and the rows of desks filling up the rest of the room. Ed made a face. The room felt enclosed like the other two hadn't. Perhaps it was just what an actual 'classroom' felt like? Ed had never gone to a brick-and-mortar school – the closest had been learning outside with a group of other kids, but he and Al had been reading alchemy books under the table the entire time.

Sighing wistfully, the blonde sat down on the edge of the desk. _Every step I take,_ he thought, _is one aimed towards Al, whole and in his proper body. But every time I step forward now, in this world of magic… it feels like I'm getting further from that opportunity, instead of closer._

_I hope that it's just a feeling._


	3. My Mind, My Body, My Soul

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist, except my own copies of the Fullmetal Alchemist manga volumes and my copies of the Harry Potter books and movies.

Author's Note: Hmmm… do I just have more motivation to write this than I have had for anything in a long time? It's going really fast, and I already have a fairly detailed plot, as my plots tend to go. Though, I think that I might have to stop for a while soon, and wait until I get home to read my copy of Order of the Phoenix. Hp-Lexicon is only so helpful.

… And about Dumbledore's speech… I made it up completely. I don't have my book, like I said, so I made due. And even though I asked my friend to look into it, I'm not sure she even has the book.

* * *

Chapter 3: My Mind, My Body, My Soul

-

-

"_B-Brother?" Al whimpered, crawling forward through the unlit, red-stained room. He couldn't feel anything, not the floor under his knees, not the blood under his hands… "Brother, what happened?" He looked down at his own body, horrified to see not his skin, but the metal surface of his father's suit of armor. "W__hat happened… to me?"_

"_It didn't work, Al," Ed breathed, eyes shut and hand clenched against the pain that Al knew his brother must be feeling. "I couldn't… we didn't bring her back."_

_Al immediately glanced towards the transmutation circle, against his brother's demand not to look, and gasped at the horrible, broken body he saw. "B-but… what happened?" he asked, pulling Ed towards him, his brother's own blood coloring the loincloth at the armor's waist. "The theories… the calculations were perfect! What went wrong?"_

"_It… wasn't the theory, Al," Ed whimpered. "It was us…!"_

-

It had finally come: the day that he would get to see Hogwarts full of students, instead of barely populated by only the ghosts and the teachers. Ed found that he was very self-conscious, as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for the fifth time that afternoon. It was probably half an hour until the students would arrive, but he was already antsy for it. He had taken a shower just after lunch, and then taken almost an hour in brushing it and putting it up in a ponytail just right – he had redone it almost twenty times since. Dressing had been no issue, since all of his clothes looked more-or-less the same, and all relatively plain. He had polished his automail quite vigorously, never mind that he didn't plan to show it to anybody.

So here he was. In front of the mirror, getting stressed about an event during which all he would do was sit and eat, and stand up once when he was introduced. Needless to say, Ed had never been this nervous about _anything_.

_Maybe,_ he thought wearily, _maybe it's because Al had always reassured me over and over that I didn't need to be scared and that everyone would have a great first impression… and I thought it was necessary to look brave, and so convinced myself that I was. Great, Al, another way in which I miss you._ He slid his long, silky golden hair through his hands, eyes closed, wondering if when he finally got to embrace the real Al, if his hair would feel like this, or if it would be rougher, untreated during the years inside the Doors. _How could he even survive inside there for so long?_ the blonde alchemist wondered, now staring at the high stone ceiling. _No sleep, surely, and no food or water… and he didn't look like a ten-year-old, he looked like…_

Like what? Like he would have, had they never attempted human transmutation? Like Ed had, a year ago? With a sigh, the oldest Elric slid the question into the back of his mind. He should be getting down to the Great Hall; it was almost time.

-

"Ah, Edward!" Ed looked up from his musings as one of the portraits called to him. It was a knight, Sir Cadogan, who was most definitely not in his normal portrait; he was intruding right now on a scene of two lovers having a picnic. "Are you headed down to the Great Hall right now? It's about time, don't you know."

Ed sighed, and tilted his head back to look up at the constantly-shifting staircases. "Yeah, I am," he said, voice slightly grumpy. He continued walking; Sir Cadogan could follow through the paintings, if he wished to keep their conversation going.

Apparently, he did. The armor-clad figure skipped over into a portrait of some wizard from history whom Ed didn't recognize. "You seem nervous! Well, I expect you would, first impressions are very important. Just remember to chin up and smile, you'll be a hit for sure!"

With a slight laugh, Ed muttered, "You sound like my brother, Sir Cadogan. He always encouraged me at events like this, even when he himself couldn't attend." There was no reply for a few seconds, as Ed passed a stretch of wall on which there were no portraits. When he came around the corner, though, there was his oil paint friend, in the last painting before he entered the Great Hall.

"Just remember!" Sir Cadogan said nobly, "Concentrate your efforts accordingly. Your mind and your body and your soul to your life's goal. Everything else to making a good first impression tonight."

_My mind and my body and my soul, huh?_ Ed thought as he nudged the door open a crack and slipped inside. _That's actually really good advice, coming from a painting of a knight. My mind and my body and my soul to Al and alchemy. Everything else to making a good first impression tonight._

The hall was still empty, except for the teachers at the staff table. Most of them were there, though McGonagall, Umbridge, and Albus were not yet. Ed found his chair quickly, between McGonagall's empty chair and Snape's filled one. The alchemist flashed a quick smile at Snape, who only returned it half-heartedly, and looked rather confused as he turned his normally chill, black gaze back to the closed doors all the way across the room.

Slowly at first, and then all in a rush, the students began entering the Great Hall. They all headed to their own tables, the differences between which Ed could see easily; each student had a crest on his or her robes, the colors of which (and probably the symbol, too, though he couldn't see from that distance) corresponded to the crest of the table they were sitting at.

As the tables neared the point of being full and the flow of students through the door became little more than a trickle, Ed allowed his eyes to trace over the tables. Just from the looks of these kids, Ed didn't have high hopes for any of them being able to learn alchemy. None of them had the same expression that he and Al had had when they went to Izumi and begged her to teach them… but, Ed thought, perhaps that was good. Perhaps most of these kids hadn't even considered what they would do if they lost someone as momentous to them as Trisha Elric had been to her two sons.

Soon, everyone was seated, and the big doors closed seemingly by themselves, though in a castle like this, Ed wasn't all that surprised. He glanced around the table, and saw that Albus and Umbridge were now seated, but that McGonagall was still nowhere to be seen. Ed dismissed it as having something to do with the sorting ceremony.

Sure enough, a moment later, the doors out into the entrance hall opened again, admitting Professor McGonagall and a line of soaked and nervous first-year students. _Hey, those kids are no bigger than I was when I was eleven! That means I haven't always been short!_ He allowed himself a small amount of joy, before something came to his mind: _That also means that my growth has slowed down since then. As if… I was only growing half as much?_ Slowly, a theory was building in his mind. He leaned across McGonagall's empty seat and whispered to Albus, "Could I borrow a piece of paper and something to write with?"

Albus turned towards him, and nodded slightly, before flicking his wand. Ed grabbed the pen and paper that appeared, mouthing 'thanks!' to the old wizard. Setting the paper flat on the table, he scribbled away. That time – when he had looked up at the thing that was supposed to be his mother – it had looked back at him. Recognized him, if he could say it. Could it be that Al's soul, after his body had been taken, had jumped directly into the nearest container, the failed human transmutation? And if he went with that theory, and supposed that he and Al were connected as he had thought when he had been led to Al's body in the gate… then he could reason that, just maybe, he was eating, sleeping, and _growing_ for Al's body, inside the Doors. It made perfect sense, once he put things together. That was why he ate so much, slept for so long, and was _short_! Ed smiled slightly. It wasn't a perfect theory, he couldn't prove it, but who could prove anything about the Doors of Truth? _At least when Al gets back, he won't be taller than me,_ Ed thought smugly.

He folded the paper smoothly, handed the pen back to Albus, and looked up just in time to see the last eleven-year-old be sorted. Even as McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat and the stool that it sat on, Dumbledore stood up to speak. It was, however, only to bring the food, a fact for which Ed was very glad. _I might have to drink milk now,_ he thought with a grimace. _Eew. But… it's for Al. I'll drink milk for you, Al. My mind and my body and my soul to you and alchemy, and everything else to swallowing milk._

The feast was magnificent, in Ed's opinion, and he immediately committed the sight to memory, so he could make one even better for Al, as soon as his brother could eat again. He piled food onto his plate, including a glass of milk, which he eyed with regret even as he poured it. Snape, next to him, was rather politer than usual when he asked Ed, "Are you really going to be able to eat all of that?"

Ed nodded, and forcefully swallowed what he already had in his mouth. "And probably seconds," he added. "I've always had a big appetite, but when I think of eating for two people, it just seems all the bigger. Y'know?" He reached for the glass of milk, and then paused. "… My mind and my body and my soul to my brother and alchemy," he murmured, "and everything else to drinking that _milk._" He took the glass in his automail hand, and swallowed a gulp as quickly as he could. He paused momentarily, waiting to taste the gross flavor that was sure to come—

But didn't. It almost tasted… dare he say… _good_? Hmm, better try that again. Again, the blonde raised the glass to his lips, this time taking a smaller mouthful, and actually tasting it. Yeah, he supposed it was good… for something that was squeezed out of a cow's back half. That thought made Ed immediately put the glass back down. _Better not tempt fate,_ he thought, going back to eating a slice of ham with all the dignity of someone who was trying to make a good first impression, which of course was something that Ed was trying to do. He didn't pay any attention to the strange glances that Snape threw him every once in a while.

The meal was over too soon for Ed's taste. Eating in a good-impression sort of way took way too long to eat two peoples' shares of food. He was still hungry when the food abruptly disappeared from the plates, so he resolved to ask where the kitchen was. Now, however, Albus was standing up, and spreading his arms in preparation to speak.

"I hope that you are all full and satisfied now," the old Headmaster said, voice somehow echoing to the corners of the Great Hall. Ed couldn't help but smile a little; he wasn't full, but he was satisfied with the knowledge he had come up with prior to the meal itself. Albus continued, though; "I am delighted to announce that this year, we have _three_ changes in the staff. First, since Professor Hagrid, our beloved Care of Magical Creatures teacher, will be unable to attend for the first part of term, Professor Wilhemina Grubbly-Plank will teach that class until he is able to return." There was a general applause, not too loud or enthusiastic, though from the Gryffindor table, there were obviously a few people who didn't think much of the change.

"Second, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year will be Professor Dolores Umbridge." Again, applause, but not enthusiastic. Ed spotted one of the Gryffindor students whispering to his friends, and all three of them looked slightly displeased with what he had to say. But Albus continued. "And third, I—"

Nobody could figure out why Albus had stopped all the sudden and looked to his left at Dolores Umbridge… until they heard her make a second tiny 'hem, hem' cough. Ed was reminded slightly of his teacher, Izumi Curtis, and how she tended to act as innocent as a cherub. Right before she threw you over a cliff or broke something expensive, that is. The thought was alarming, but he could tell that Umbridge would do nothing of _that_ sort. Instead, it seemed that the chimera-woman wanted to make a speak. Albus sat down politely, and let her have the stage.

Ed didn't listen to a word of her speech. She had cornered him in the corridor that morning, actually, and forced him to stand there and listen to the same speech all the way through, somehow defeating his every attempt to politely sneak out of the conversation. All he could see from it was that she wanted the students to learn defense only in the spirit of theory, so that they would be disempowered when it came to any rebellious ideas they had. Ed disagreed completely, but of course he hadn't said that. If alchemy was one part theory, he thought, then it was two parts knowledge and seven parts practice, as well.

At last, the speech ended, and the woman took her seat, allowing Dumbledore to continue. He did so promptly, standing up. "As I was saying before," he said, voice completely malice-free as Ed knew his own would not be, in that situation, "I am also proud to say that that this year, Hogwarts is introducing a new class: alchemy. This will be a restricted course, only available to those fourth year and older, and to participate you much sign a waiver saying that you wish to participate in the class, and will accept and complete any and all work assigned. I myself am fascinated to know what sort of curriculum our teacher has set up for that subject." Ed spotted the twinkle in the old man's eye. "That teacher is, my friends, Professor Edward Elric, formerly of Amestris." Ed stood up as the other teachers had when introduced, smiling slightly, still in his head repeating his newfound mantra; _My mind and my body and my soul to Al and alchemy. Everything else to making a good impression._

There was a much more enthusiastic round of applause this time; it was fueled, he was sure, by the female population, most of whom were whispering to each other even as they clapped. Delighted, Ed sat back down, and let Albus continue with his speech, though it was almost over; all that remained was to warn everybody that the Forbidden Forest was out-of-bounds, to talk about Argus Filch's 'forbidden things' list, and then dismiss them all to their beds.

The teachers all hung back until the Hall was mostly emptied, and then began to leave for their private rooms; Ed joined them in that gratefully. He did, however, run ahead to catch up to Albus. "Hey," he asked, slowing down to match the man's steps. "I didn't get to eat enough during the feast, so do you think you could point me in the direction of the kitchen? There's got to be one, in a school like this."

Albus's eyes twinkled strangely. "Sure," he said, pointing to the smaller staircase just to the right of the stairs that led up to the next level. "Go down there, and just follow along until you reach a rather large picture of a bowl of fruit. Just make like you're tickling the pear, and it'll open right up!" With that, the white-bearded man bid him good night, and left Ed wondering why the secret places in this castle were hidden in such oddball ways.

But down the right-hand staircase he went, mixing in with the stragglers of the Hufflepuffs, who were rather embarrassed by their new teacher's presence, though perhaps not so much as they would have been if he had looked, say, actually older than a majority of them. Ed noticed this, of course, and wasn't pleased by it, but they split off from him as soon as he reached the bowl of fruit and stopped; they kept going.

After waiting until the Hufflepuffs were out of sight, just for good measure and not to reveal a place that seemed like it was supposed to be secret, Ed reached up and rubbed his fingers across the pear. Nothing happened; Ed supposed that it was because he wasn't tickling it right. So he imagined tickling Winry, since she was the only person he had ever really tickled. Sure enough, the pear giggled shrilly, and turned into a doorknob, which Ed turned as best he could. He stepped inside, and closed it behind himself.

The kitchens were enormous. The room was almost exactly the same size as the Great Hall above – perhaps a little smaller, but that might just be an effect cast by the brass pots and pans stacked all around the room. Immediately after turning around, Ed found himself surrounded by hip-high creatures. Looking down, Ed saw that they looked somewhat like humans, but that their features were strangely different. They were all speaking, and he could only vaguely tell what they were saying, there was such a clamor; the ones near him were asking over and over, "What would you like, sir? What would you like, sir?"

"Uh," Ed hesitated, then said clearly, "Anything you guys aren't going to serve? I didn't get enough to eat during the feast." He was eagerly lead over to a seat, and the tiny creatures began shoving food in his face, which he ate eagerly. It was just as good, he found, as it had been at the feast. He could get used to this.


	4. A Memory That Stings

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist, except my own copies of the Fullmetal Alchemist manga volumes and my copies of the Harry Potter books and movies.

Author's Note: Who else was really, really waiting for chapter 82?

Well. This chapter is the one that really struck me emotionally. I actually ended up writing it twice, because I wasn't satisfied with what I wrote the first time around. And after this chapter, I won't be able to post another one until I get home sometime next week.

* * *

Chapter 4: A Memory That Stings

-

-

"_It's my fault Al has that body…" Ed's left hand clenched in the thin sheet; under the wet towel on his face, Winry knew he was crying hot, salty tears. "He can't sleep, get hurt, or feel. He blames me… he definitely blames me…!"_

_Tightening a bolt, Winry glanced up at her friend. "That's not true!" she said as firmly as she could in the situation._

_Pinako agreed, nodding as she carefully set the wires. "Al isn't the sort of boy that would blame you," she assured him. "Ask him, and you'll see."_

"_I'm afraid to." Ed's voice shook slightly, no matter how he tried to hide it. Getting automail was painful enough, but two limbs at once, and under that emotional stress—it was enough to make Winry's throat tighten, even as she tried to work through the tears in her eyes. "I'm too scared to ask him. That's why I have to restore him as soon as possible…"_

-

Ed was sitting at his desk, fast asleep, surrounded by sheets of paper with small transmutation circles doodled on them; the pen was hanging lazily in his hand. He was snoring softly, though in his defense, he would claim that it was just heavy breathing. He had taken the band out of his hair, letting it fall over his shoulders and onto the paper-covered desk as his head lay against the wood.

Because he was so deeply asleep, the alchemist didn't notice when his office door creaked open just a bit, and something seemed to slip through, though nothing could be seen, and then the door closed all by itself. If he had been awake, Ed might have heard the whispered argument, or picked up on the three pairs of footsteps, or spotted the six ankles showing from under Harry Potter's Invisibility Cloak.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, as that was who were under the cloak, crept forward as quietly as they could, before Hermione hissed, "Oh, this is ridiculous, he's _asleep_," and yanked the slinky material off from all three of them. She wadded it up and threw it at Harry, who caught it and sheepishly put it into his schoolbag.

The three began sneaking as quietly as they could around his office; Ron went to the bookshelf, Hermione began shuffling through the papers on Ed's desk as best she could without waking him, and Harry made for the door to his bedroom. It was obvious what they had come there to do: examine their alchemy teacher before they attended his class. The general line of thought had been something along the lines of Harry being skeptical about a completely new subject, and a restricted-level one at that, the year after Voldemort had returned. Hermione and Ron had agreed with Harry's instinct, and though Hermione didn't really want to sneak into a teacher's private rooms, she ended up agreeing to help, anyway.

Ron sighed, and said softly to Hermione, "There's nothing here but history books and Hogwarts curriculum stuff. Nobody who's graduated would keep this stuff; I didn't even keep mine around after I finished the year I needed them for. They got passed on to Ginny. I guess maybe he's learning this stuff as he goes." He sounded tentative, and for good reason; a teacher at a magic school who hadn't _graduated_ from a magic school? That didn't make any sense.

Hermione didn't respond. She was busy looking at the many different circles, filled with strange symbols and figures with different numbers of sides. "These don't make any sense," she whispered. "I've never seen these symbols before, and I've never heard of any sort of spell that requires circles and triangles and symbols. What could this be?" She turned away from the table, glancing between two pieces of paper with particularly complex circles on them, and didn't notice Ed's subtle movements. His hand, the one not still holding the pen, snuck up onto the table, and pressed down on one of the circles.

The only clue that Hermione got was when she heard something moving behind her, because by the time she tried to turn around to see what it was, she was wrapped in something stiff and wooden-feeling. A yelp from Ron a moment later told her that the same thing had happened to him. Trying desperately to keep her balance, Hermione glanced towards the desk – only to see that it was gone.

"Where's number three?" Ed demanded, and Hermione only noticed at that time that he was awake. "I saw you guys at the feast, I know that you stick together pretty close with one other person. Where is he? In my room?" He turned, and pulled the door open, stomping into his room. He didn't even look over his shoulder at Hermione's shriek of, "Harry!"

When Ed marched into his room and saw Harry, it was to find the boy going through his wardrobe. His clothes Harry seemed to ignore, but he had found the pile of old Daily Prophet issues, and was digging through those. In fact, he seemed to have found…

Harry felt curiosity first when he saw the maintenance kit, which looked surprisingly Muggle to find in his alchemy teacher's wardrobe. His curiosity turned to alarm, however, when he felt a strong-as-steel grip on his arm, and he was spun around to find himself face-to-face with very angry golden eyes. "I'm new here," Ed said, voice deadly calm, "so I don't know, and maybe you can tell me –can I get you expelled for trespassing in my rooms?"

Yelping, Harry tried to pull away, but Ed's grip was steady. "I understand that you're curious about me, being a new teacher and blah-de-blah, but still – before I've even held one class! A little quicker on the draw here, aren't you, than people at home would be." Harry reached for his wand, but Ed moved faster and snatched it away. He let Harry go then, and the dark-haired boy stumbled away, unused to such harsh physical treatment from a teacher.

Ed paused, giving Harry a good gap in which to say something, but since nothing was forthcoming, continued. "You actually remind me of myself just a tiny bit. I can't count the number of times I've gotten in trouble, either by being at the wrong place at the wrong time, or because I was nosy." He tossed Harry's wand into the air a few times, catching it each time. "I bet I couldn't do magic with this," he said thoughtfully. "That wand guy, Ollivander – he couldn't find one for me. So I've been forced into teaching myself wandless magic just to practice! Do you get how annoying that is?" He tossed the wand in the air again, seemingly watching its arc through the air, but in truth looking out of the corner of his eye at Harry, searching for a reaction.

But besides the humiliation and slight anger, he didn't get a rise out of the Potter kid, so Ed just sighed and through Harry's wand back. "But y'know what, I'm in a relatively good mood, and I get that you guys were just curious. So as long as you never try to pull something like this again, you can leave." He combed his left hand through his hair, thinking of Al again. _He would have just laughed it off,_ the blonde thought. _Would have done just what I did. That's the kind of person Al is. My heart and my body and my soul to Al and alchemy, and everything else to following my younger brother's example._

As Harry slunk out of the room, he still kept one eye on Ed, though he did seem rather relieved. He left quickly, and when Ed returned to his office, bits of the desk were lying all over the floor, and all three were gone. Ed just smirked, before pressing his mismatched palms together and transmuting the desk back into one piece. He set about picking up the sheets of paper that had gone everywhere, and organizing them into reasonably-neat piles on his desk. And with all the doodled transmutation circles on an unknown number of sheets of paper, Ed didn't notice that one in particular had gone missing.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, the gang of troublemakers were poring over a single sheet of paper. "What do you figure this one means?" Hermione wondered aloud to her two companions, who had no available response, and just shrugged.

-

The students were whispering. They were whispering, or at least they thought they were, because even through the thick wooden door, Ed could hear them talking amongst themselves, though he could make out little of what was actually said. He was nervous, though less so than he had been at the welcome feast. He had already seen these people before, they had all seen him, now all he had to do was walk out there and talk about one of the things he was most comfortable with in the entire world. It wasn't as if he was trying to teach Transfiguration, or... Muggle Studies. _My mind and my body and my soul to Al and alchemy, and everything else to teaching this class._ Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open and stepped into the classroom.

He strode through the classroom, which immediately silenced, up to his desk, barely hearing the wooden door close with a thud behind him. At the desk, he nudged the chair back a little so he could stand in front of it. "What is alchemy?" he said, setting the question before the class. There was no response; the students glanced at one another in confusion. "Well, what is it? Most of you—no, all of you are probably here because you don't know, and you want to. Alchemy is breaking matter down to the basic elements, and then putting it back together as something different. The three basic steps are analysis, deconstruction, and reconstruction. The first, and most important law of alchemy is equivalent exchange: you cannot create more or less or something different than you start with. I won't say, 'don't try to break this law,' because you can try all you like, it's not going to work."

The students seemed to understand a little, though Ed was sure that not all of them fully grasped the width and breadth of the law. After a few seconds, he continued. "Where I come from, in Amestris, the alchemists' creed is 'Alchemist be thou for the people.' I understand that there's no way you could go among the people in this world fixing things for them, but try to understand the theory behind it. Magic for to help yourself, alchemy for to help others.

"After saying that, I want you to make that the ground rule for using alchemy during and after your enrollment in this class. Alchemy can be used in many different ways, some of which could potentially be used to cause harm. I don't mean to teach you alchemy so that you can harass others with it, even if it's as harmless as playing a joke on a fellow student. I know someone who can make anything, sentient or non-living, into a bomb with his bare hands. I know someone who can set fire to an area the size of Diagon Alley by snapping his fingers. And I also know someone who can destroy anything he sees with little more than a touch of his hand." That sobered the class up quick. He could see the ambition in some eyes, fear in others. The ambition he planned to squash as fast as possible, and the fear he intended to culture into careful wariness.

A hand shot up in the air. It was a Ravenclaw girl; Ed called on her, and she gave her name along with her question. "Luna Lovegood," she said, voice soft. "Could you give us a display, Professor Elric? I'd like to see some real alchemy."

Ed grinned. "Of course, Miss Lovegood," he said delightedly. "Who would like to be my g—assistant?" He reached into the desk and rummaged around for a stick of chalk. Not a single hand went up. Ed found the chalk, and straightened up, glancing around. "Oh… no volunteers? Then I suppose I'll have to choose somebody." His eyes scanned the crowd; somebody who had looked particularly ambitious. Somebody like… ah. "Mister… you, the blondie Slytherin. What's your name?"

The blondie Slytherin in question looked rather bewildered, like he wasn't used to being called on to be an assistant, but stood up and said, "It's Draco Malfoy," in a tone that dripped with the arrogance (as well as current discomfort) of nobility. Ed nodded, and beckoned Malfoy up to the front of the room. He came, albeit reluctantly, and stood there uncomfortably, staring at the smug Gryffindor part of the group.

Ed dropped the sheet of paper, now inscribed with a circle to transmute the stone around him into a different shape. As soon as it settled on the floor at his feet, Ed bent down and pressed his fingertips daintily to the rim of the outer circle. It lit up with golden light, and when everybody was distracted looking at the glow, a glob of stone rose up behind Malfoy and formed into a hand, grabbing him tightly around the waist.

The blonde ferret struggled uselessly, shouting, "Let me go! Let me _go_, or I'll tell my father about this! Undo this!" Ed just laughed, and stood there watching for a few seconds longer, before activating the circle again and returning the floor to its exact structure before the transmutation. Malfoy scrambled back to his seat, fairly terrified. "Any questions?" Ed asked, mouth spread into a cheery smile. Scaring somebody like that always put him in _such_ a good mood.

A Gryffindor fourth-year girl raised her hand, and Ed called on her right away. She stood up. "Ginny Weasley," she said. "Why are you so short, Professor? You're as tall as me, maybe not even…"

There was evidently more there to be said, but she could see by the shadow that fell across her teacher's eyes that she had said enough. "I…" Everybody leaned forward a little, listening intently. "… am not SHORT!" Ed hollered, leaning forward on his desk. "I'm not a midget, a shrimp, a tiny person! Don't call me so small you wouldn't be able to see me hiding among the hydrogen molecules!"

The classroom passed into a general panic for a minute or two, before everything settled down. Papers were slightly more scattered than before, and girls who had carefully arranged every hair perfectly on their head to look their best for their new, _young_ teacher – well, let's just go with 'it didn't look so perfect any longer.' Ed dusted his gloves off formally, and said, "Since this is the first class and I really need to have a constant audience before I really start teaching you alchemy, I only have a little more to say before we end for today."

He paused, leaning down to pick up the paper transmutation circle that he had forgotten to retrieve. "I'm not going to teach this class the hard way, even though that's how I learned, because few people could survive that kind of training, and I'm not that ruthless." He shuddered at the thought of going through Izumi's training-from-Hell again. "At the same time, I'm not going to teach you the easy way, because there is no easy way. I'll teach you the right way, the best way I can. Alchemy is one part theory, two parts knowledge, and seven parts practice and dedication. Don't forget that."

It seemed like a somber note, and the students were affected by the statement in turn. So Ed clapped happily, just to break the moment. "All right then," he said, "for those of you who show up to the next class! I want you to bring something you wish to transmute into another form. You might as well get a head start and research what it's made of, because you'll need to know. Also, everyone; find a copy of the Muggle periodic table of elements, and bring it with you to every class. Memorize it, if you can. That's all that I have for you today; see you next time!" He knew that he gave the students a couple minutes before the bell rang, but he didn't have any more to say, so out they went.

However, not everyone left immediately. Harry, Ron, and Hermione hung around until everyone had left, arguing about something in hushed voices, throwing glances at Ed every once in a while. After several minutes of disagreement, however, Hermione snatched something from Harry, and strode up to the blonde alchemist. She unfolded it, revealing it to be a piece of paper… a suspiciously familiar piece of paper. "Uh…" She glanced back and forth nervously, before saying, "I kinda nicked this from your office on our way out. What does it mean?" She held the paper out for Ed to see.

He tool the paper from her, and when he saw what was written, his golden eyes immediately widened with horror. It was a copy of the transmutation circle that he and Al had used in their attempt to bring their mother back. "Of all the… you had to chance on this one," he murmured. "You couldn't have at least got the Xerxes one, of course. I hadn't even planned to talk about this." His hand went to his brow, hiding his face from sight. He was immediately back to thinking about Al, wondering if he was all right, if the rejection had happened yet… accepting that he had no way of knowing… "You want me to tell you what it's used for, right?"

Hermione nodded eagerly, wringing another heavy sigh from her teacher. Ed reached for something on his desk, unsure even what he was looking for, just trying to find something to distract himself from the thought. "It's an unpleasant subject," he began, "for any alchemist who knows anything substantial about it. It's one of curiosity for most others. And for me…" He cut himself off quickly, blinking back tears at the thoughts of his mother, greeting him and Al with a basket full of tomatoes at the top of the hill.

"There is one thing in alchemy that is absolutely forbidden," Ed said softly, knowing that the trio were waiting for him to speak, that he could have refused to say anything, that he should have been more careful than to let this happen. "The attempt to bring humans to life using alchemy." He heard the three soft gasps from in front of him. "Curious alchemists would say that it should scientifically be possible, that you should be able to make a human from the chemical makeup. But it just doesn't work; disregarding the theories, it doesn't work. Life flows one way." His left hand rested on his automail knee, and he gripped it hard enough to make his fingers ache. "That circle… wherever it's used, it brings only bad memories."

He fell silent, and the trio seemed to understand that he wasn't going to continue. So they gathered up their bags, and left as inconspicuously as they could. Hidden behind his gloved hand, Ed was crying silently, holding his body as still as he could so his students wouldn't see his weakness, but they had probably guessed. As soon as he heard the door slide shut, the blonde brought his other hand up too, and let himself really cry for the first time in a very, very long time.


	5. Wish To Forget

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist, except my own copies of the Fullmetal Alchemist manga volumes and my copies of the Harry Potter books and movies.

Author's Note: I'm sorry this chapter took so long to write! I'm still not completely happy with this chapter… but 5 o'clock and all's well, I think I'm doing pretty good so far, despite the crap update schedule.

* * *

Chapter 5: Wish To Forget

"_So that's what happened!" Ed hissed, tightening his grip on Tucker's shirt out of his pure anger. "You scum! How could you! Two years ago it was your wife!" Tucker looked slightly worried as Ed shook him. "This time you made a chimera out of your daughter and a dog!"_

_Ed heard Al gasp, and the grate of metal that followed told him that his kind-hearted brother had knelt next to the soft-mannered chimera that they both now knew was Nina. Ed continued his ranting, oblivious. "Isn't that right? Because there's only so much you can do by experimenting with animals! Humans are so much better, am I right?"_

"_Nnh… Why are you so mad?" Shou said quietly, turning his head to avoid the hand that was threatening to suffocate him. "The progress of medicine… the progress of human knowledge… is the result of experimenting on humans. Someone has to do it. As a scientist… you should be the first to…"_

"_Shut up!" Ed shouted. "Do you think you're going to get away with this? You think you can just toy with peoples' lives?" He pressed tighter against Tucker's throat, not quite choking him, much as he'd like to._

_At the words, Ed saw Tucker's eyes widen fractionally. "Peoples' lives?" he whispered. "Ha ha! Yes, peoples' lives! You're the Fullmetal Alchemist! You mean like your brother's life… and your arm? That's also the result of 'playing around with peoples' lives,' yes?"_

-

Ed was writing a letter. He didn't have anyone to write to, but he was writing a letter, because it was all he could do. There was no way he could talk to Al, there was no way he could send this letter to Al, but he was writing it all the same. It was something that he had fallen into doing a couple days after term really got going: writing letters to anyone he thought of. He had a stack of them on his bedside table, which he would wish every night before he fell asleep would reach their recipients.

_Dear Al,_ this one began;

_I miss you. Every second I'm awake, I'm always wondering if you're okay, or if you've gone back to the Doors, and I'll never see you again, even if I manage to return to Amestris .Which is, by the way, looking less and less likely every paragraph I read about magic, which I originally accepted to help you. I miss you so bad it makes me cry. Me, the Fullmetal Alchemist, the peoples' Alchemist, cries every night now, because I can't stand how much I miss you._

_And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for thinking of human transmutation, I'm sorry for pursuing it, I'm sorry for what happened to your body, I'm sorry I haven't fixed it. I'm sorry I screwed up so bad, and now you don't even know if I'm alive or not. I'm sorry that I probably made Winry cry like we promised not to, because she probably thinks I'm dead, too._

_Do you think about me often? I'm teaching a class now. It's not very interesting, just very simple alchemy. I wanted at first to teach it like we learned from Teacher, but these kids, they would die from training even half that harsh. There's no 'train the body to train the mind' here… everybody uses magic to make their lives easier, to do less labor. Even so, I'm managing; most of them can do a basic transmutation now, if they're told what it's made of. But less than half of them have memorized more than a few of the symbols, and I think maybe two people have the entire periodic table down. It's frustratingly slow, but it's progress nonetheless._

_I can't spar with anyone here. Only one person knows about my automail, and I don't want to reveal it, much less get into a fight in which it might break, since there's no way Winry could come and hit me with her wrench and then fix it._

_I miss you Alphonse, so bad that I've started crying again. I hope I can see you soon, brother._

_Ed._

Another thing that he had started on, in the last day or two, was trying to examine his automail and copy it. He did that now, disconnecting the heavy metal arm from the socket with a 'click' that Ed never ceased to find very disturbing. He got out a stack of papers on which he had been drawing detailed diagrams of every part, and where it went in the structure of the arm. It was harder to draw with his left arm in that it wasn't natural, but easier in that he had more control of his small motor movements. So he labored away to draw scale diagrams of each bolt and convoluted plate of metal.

It was during the block of time between breakfast and lunch, after which his class took place, that he was disturbed in mapping out his automail. Ed flinched at the idea of just shoving his arm back into the socket, so he didn't for the time being, and instead strolled over to the door and opened it a crack, keeping his right shoulder hidden, and with the rest of his body blocking the newcomer's view of his room. "Yes?" he asked quietly.

Outside was Severus Snape, looking less unpleasant than your average Gryffindor student would have attested to. "I wouldn't have come all the way in, Professor Elric, but you weren't in your classroom or your office. May I come in? I have something to discuss with you."

Ed nudged his glasses up on his nose with his knuckle, and nodded. "Just a second, alright?" he said, and closed the door quickly. He ran over to the bed, and sat down. He picked up the automail arm and held it ready at the socket, pulling his control about him. When he slid it back into the socket quickly and it locked into place, he could only so much stifle the exclamation that would have been either a shout or a curse had he not bit his lip. As it was, the shout was reduced to a muffled sound that Ed could only hope Snape hadn't heard from outside.

The blonde alchemist continued on to hide the stack of papers in the wardrobe and pull on a long-sleeve shirt, his gloves, and a pair of socks. At long last, he ran back to the door, and opened it, smiling briefly at Snape before letting him in.

As the potions master stepped inside, he said casually, "Did you hit your foot on something? It sounded like you were in pain, from outside the door."

Ed shook his head dismissively. In reality, his body was still tense from the shock of reconnecting his arm, but it had been nothing compared to the actual automail surgery or the rehab that had followed, so he really had nothing to complain about. "Mm… what did you come for?" he asked.

"Surely you've heard the news of Professor Umbridge becoming the Hogwarts High Inquisitor," he began, and Ed nodded, making a face. He had indeed heard the news, and felt nothing more than disgust and indignation, which he could only so much hide when he passed Umbridge in the halls. "I have heard that she intends to inspect your class today. It may just be a rumor, but all rumors have their roots in truth, so you should be prepared."

Ed cursed softly. He had intended to talk about chimeras during his next class, because he figured that his students had gotten the hang of basic transmutation, and he needed to say it before someone experimented on their own. But he wasn't sure he wanted to talk about such a delicate subject if Umbridge stood a chance of showing up. Regardless… a lesson planned was a lesson executed, and things would be thrown off balance if he switched two lessons around. So to Snape, he said, "Thanks. Really – I'm grateful for having at least a little warning before she springs this on me."

Snape nodded understandingly. "She gave most of the teachers fair warning," he said quietly. "I don't know if she holds a grudge against you or what, but she obviously isn't planning to say anything before she inspects your class." He paused, seemingly out of things to say, and then stood up to leave. "I'll see you at lunch," he said on his way out.

Ed just nodded, once again falling into his thoughts. How would he present the subject of bio-alchemy in a way that wouldn't seem inappropriate to the Ministry? He was so concentrated on the fact that he missed lunch completely.

-

When Ed strode into his classroom, filled already with students, he saw that Snape had been right on the dot about the rumor. Umbridge was there, standing in the back of the room in her fluffy pink cardigan that would look better on Number 66 than it did on her, with her clipboard in hand. Ed just sighed, resigned to giving the lesson with the hope that he wouldn't stir up too much trouble. "Let's start off with your homework," he said. "Miss Lovegood, would you please gather up everyone's homework?"

As the class began handing their homework – to transmute a small block of an unknown metal into something else – to Luna, Ed heard faintly Umbridge's tiny, polite 'hem, hem' cough. He looked towards her, trying to set his expression to be unreadable. "Yes, Dolores?" he said, only marginally succeeding at draining the malice out of his voice. "Do you need something?"

"Yes," she said, voice sticky sweet, like the smell of bad honey. "I was wondering if you might answer a few questions for me." She held her clipboard up, as if that explained things.

Ed tensed up immediately, but nodded. He could vaguely hear Ron say to Hermione, "Elric's gonna teach Umbridge a thing or two about manners!"

"I've surveyed your students, and they seem to be doing only marginally well in this class," Umbridge stated sweetly. "Do you believe this is because they are incapable, unintelligent, or that the curriculum is too difficult for students of this age?"

"Age doesn't have anything to do with it," Ed stated. "I learned basic alchemy when was five. However, that doesn't mean that these students are unintelligent. I'm considered an alchemic genius, though that's under extenuating circumstances. For students that have grown up in an environment where they are able to make anything out of nothing, in a world of magic, the principals of a foreign science such as alchemy are very hard to grasp. These students are doing exactly as well as I expect them to, perhaps better than I could hope. They all seem to accept the theory of equivalent exchange fairly well."

Umbridge was scribbling madly away at her clipboard. She obviously hadn't been expecting such a backwards answer, which made Ed satisfied, to a degree. So the stuffy toad-like woman pulled herself up as tall as she could, which Ed was upset to see was several inches taller than himself, and posed her next question. "Under what 'extenuating circumstances' are you considered an alchemic genius, Mr. Elric? You seem to be rather vague about it, so I can't help but wonder."

"Very complicated circumstances," Ed said tersely, very miffed, "which I am by my native military forbidden to speak about so lightly. Please don't ask such prodding questions if you only wish to be nosy, Professor Umbridge. You'll end up with an answer you don't like."

Miss toady raised her eyebrows in surprise, and began writing on her board, but less feverishly; she seemed very surprised by the answer. However, her presence was interrupted as the levitated pile of metal sculptures was set gently onto his desk. Ed set about looking at them, setting them in rows on his desk coordinating to the rows of chairs. "These are very good," he mused aloud. "You all have creativity, and were able to figure out the type of metal that I gave you." He paused on one, holding it up to take a closer look. "… Miss Patil," he said, "while it is flattering to have one of my students turn in a tin bust of me as homework… did you use magic to add the color?"

The brunette in question nodded eagerly, and Ed just sighed, and set the metal figure back on his desk. He didn't remark, since there really _was_ nothing to say. "Well, since we've wasted enough time on homework… today I'm going to talk about a branch of alchemy that I disapprove of: biological alchemy.

"Alchemy is a science. In science, you experiment to reach conclusions. All that I've taught you about alchemy is the result of hundreds of years of experimentation by the people who call themselves alchemists. But through that experimentation, alchemists discovered something different to do with the skill that they had. They started experimenting with animals in alchemy."

He heard mutters of indignation from many of the animal-loving females in the room, and Ed growled, "Don't give me that. You don't realize that in Transfiguration, you experiment with turning animals into objects? That's the same thing, just less permanent, it's easier, and it's much less dangerous to yourself and the animal in question. Alchemists used animals with alchemy, combining them with ones from a different species to examine the result. It's an imprecise science, and there were many mistakes, many false starts. It was in no way humane, and alchemists who made chimeras had to keep underground to avoid persecution. But science is science, and soon the practice filtered into the military, who were eager to find out what results such research could produce."

Umbridge spoke up then, raising one stubby finger in a slightly less form of interruption. "You say combining different species of animals," she said, "did they at all experiment with combining animals and humans? It seems closely related."

Ed's eyes slid closed, and he took a deep breath. _She asked it,_ he thought desperately. _I can't just withhold information. She'll get me put on probation if I refuse to answer too many questions. _"Yes," he whispered. When Umbridge asked him to speak up, since she hadn't heard him, the alchemist's eyes shot open and he slammed his hands down on the desk. "Yes! They did experiment with humans and animals!" he fairly shouted. "The man who started it was obsessed with his research, didn't care about his family. He got into the military with a chimera that could speak the human tongue, nobody asked how he did it; nobody questions spectacular people." There was a resentful tang in his voice; _like me._ "But that chimera, and the second one – they were animal-human chimeras. He made the first one with his wife, and the second with his daughter. The first time, it refused to eat or drink and died, and the second time, it was destroyed." At that, almost every student had shocked expressions, and were thrown into whispering amongst themselves. Umbridge was scribbling on her clipboard almost madly now, and Ed was trying to be discreet in using his hand to cover up the dent that he had just created with the heel of his right palm.

The rest of the class passed mundanely, compared to the discussion of chimeras. They went back to basic transmutation, and Umbridge left halfway through, saying that she had seen enough to make her decision. Ed handed out the homework in a huff, and went straight down to the kitchens as soon as the class let out.

-

Ed was sitting in his office, painstakingly sketching out a spring that belonged in the knee of his automail leg, the front panel of which was open right now. When he heard a knock at the door, he said, "Come in," and slid an ungraded paper over top of his drawing, discreetly closing the automail and rolling his pant leg back down.

Luna Lovegood appeared at the door, smiling dreamily at him. "I have something I wanted to show you," she said. "May I come in for a bit?"

With a nod, Ed gestured to the spare chair with one gloved hand. She stepped inside and closed the door gently, before tiptoeing over to the chair and taking a seat. "I'm sorry I interrupted you in the middle of grading," she said, nodding at the rough transmutation circle now lying on top of the sketches.

Ed glanced at the circle, and shrugged; "What did you want to show me, then?" he asked. "Not that grading would take all that long, but it does need to be done." In truth, he was grateful for her interruption; it put off grading just a little bit longer. Heck, he _was_ still a teenager, teacher or not!

Luna nodded a little, and glanced around the room, before saying, "I invented a spell."

"And you know, though, that this class has nothing to do with magic."

"I know," she giggled slightly, "but I made it up after I saw a dream that had you in it. And I thought you might like to know it; it's very useful, I think. The dream was that you were captured, and somebody tried to shoot a spell at you, but it bounced off of your glasses and hit the person who had cast it, instead. So that's what I based this spell off of!"

Ed paused. Regardless of how ridiculous, the spell did sound marginally useful. "So what does it do?"

"It's basically a highly-concentrated shield spell, but I've added a little something to it. Some spells it will absorb, to strengthen the spell and keep you from needing to recast it. But some spells as well as all physical objects it will bounce back, and part of what I included was that it will always hit the person who cast the spell or threw the object. The incantation is _Protego Angustus_."

She twirled her wand quickly, and Ed's glasses were covered momentarily by soft purple light, before that faded and he could see just as well as before. "See, look at this," Luna said, picking up his pen and tossing it at his face. The heavy pen only barely tapped the glass gently, before it was turned around and shot back; Luna caught it easily.

Ed grinned appreciatively. "That really is useful," he said. "Thanks."

Luna nodded, and Ed thought for a moment that she might just leave, but she didn't; she continued to sit there, watching Ed watch her. At long last, she said, "That talk about chimeras today was pretty intense. It sounded like you've had personal experience."

The statement caught Ed off guard. "… Yeah," he said, surprising himself. "I was… looking through the man's research notes when he made the second chimera. The first was two years too early for me to see. My younger brother had played with his daughter, Nina, and she was such a sweet girl. She didn't even know that her mother was dead; she thought that her parents had gotten divorced, and her mother had left. It was… horrible… to find out that both she and her father had been killed. I'm glad I didn't see it." He didn't say that he had seen much of the same style of killing since then, and indeed, had almost been on the receiving end multiple times.

A soft smile from Luna preceded her next words; "I probably can't understand what it was like, but I'd like to pretend that I can so I can comfort you."

"It's fine," Ed murmured, and when the blonde girl excused herself, he didn't even remember to nod. He was immersed in memories again, about the soft-hearted chimera, and the ones who had destroyed both her future and her present.


	6. Barely, Hardly My Friend

Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist, except my own copies of the Fullmetal Alchemist volumes and my copies of the Harry Potter books and movies.

Author's Note: This is pretty much the chapter that I've wanted to write since the beginning of the story. Haha…

* * *

Chapter 6: Barely, Hardly My Friend

-

-

"_I'll give you a moment to pray." Ed could feel the rain hitting the back of his neck, could feel the stone under his hand, could feel the wires and broken metal hanging from what was left of his shattered arm._

_Out of the corner of his eye, Ed saw Scar's shoes, standing just the other side of the countless scattered bolts and bits of metal. "Sorry to disappoint you," he mumbled from between gritted teeth, "But there's no god that I feel like praying to." He couldn't see Al, but knew that his brother was still there, armor shattered enough to keep him from moving, out of fear of breaking the blood rune. "Am I the only one you're after? My younger brother, Al… Are you going to kill him, too?"_

"_If anyone gets in my way, then I will eliminate them… but right now I only have business with you, the Fullmetal Alchemist."_

_Ed's golden eyes were squeezed shut as he said, "All right then, promise me. Promise you won't touch my brother." Over his shoulder, he could hear Al trying to move, could hear the grate of the broken metal against the stones of the street, but anything that might have been said was lost over the pounding of the rain and the occasional clap of thunder._

"_I promise."_

-

"So I heard about the new class. What's it like?"

Harry looked up at Sirius's question. He glanced around for a moment, trying to find the words to explain; "The teacher's weird," he said at last. "He's from some place called 'Amestris,' which I can't find on any map, Muggle or magical. And he's teaching alchemy, which is more like a Muggle science than a branch of magic."

Sirius made a face. "That does seem strange. You say he's teaching alchemy… what sort of things is that used for? I've heard the word before, but never heard of it as an actual practice."

"Well… from what Professor Elric has said before, it's potentially very dangerous, but he's told us not to use it for those purposes. He says, 'alchemist be thou for the people.' I guess I can see his point… None of us are good enough yet to even try using it offensively, even if he did teach us how."

Harry's godfather fell into silent contemplation again, and Hermione said, "You know… he doesn't seem to approve of Umbridge, Professor Elric doesn't. Maybe we could get him to help us with the Defense Against the Dark Arts club."

Ron seemed to like that idea, and said as much. Harry didn't really care, and Sirius was doubtful that Elric would approve, but agreed anyway. So it was unanimous: they would take it upon themselves to ask their alchemy teacher to help them do something that could, as of that morning, get them expelled.

-

Ed stared down into the glass of hot, alcoholic liquid known as firewhiskey. When he had ordered it, Madame Rosmerta had given him a funny look, but knew that he was a teacher, and so probably assumed that he was just short for someone of drinking age. The liquid had a strange flavor that Ed couldn't decide if he liked or not, but it distracted him for long enough when he drank it that he didn't care. _Al wouldn't approve of me drinking,_ he thought as he took another sip of the amber liquid. _Geez, Al, look what happens to me the minute you're not here. I'm gonna be full of bad habits before I see you again._

He finished off the last half-inch of liquid in the bottom of his glass in one gulp, shuddering at the effect, and stood up, pressing his money down onto the table. He wandered outside rather aimlessly, hands in his pockets, headed in a general line towards the castle. The weather in England was colder than he was used to in Amestris – he almost missed Lior by comparison – and he was afraid of getting frostbite off his automail, and so made a general habit not to be outside for too long.

As he was walking, Ed found that a tight-knit group of Hufflepuff girls had ended up somewhat next to and a little ahead of him, and without meaning to, fell to eavesdropping.

"Are you sure? It could just be a rumor."

"No, I'm sure. I didn't see for myself, but Mary doesn't lie. If she says there was someone coming out of the Forbidden Forest, then so there was."

"So did she say what that person looked like?"

"Uh… it was a guy, and older than, y'know, a student. And she said he had pretty dark skin, and he was all bloody, like he got attacked in the forest… and I guess she saw that he had a big scar on his forehead, like an X."

"Seriously?! That's a weird description! You said he was coming out of the Forbidden Forest? Where, up by the castle?"

"You bet."

Ed felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out. He halted immediately in the street, Hogwarts students streaming back and forth on either side of him. _That's Scar,_ he thought. _No matter how you look at it, that's Scar. How did he get here? Never mind that, why is he…?_ Somebody elbowed him in the side, and he was broken out of his reverie, and set off up the road to the castle at a run.

He arrived at the grounds, breathing heavily, and looked around the jagged edge of the Forbidden Forest, searching for Scar's familiar form. He spotted the Ishvaran man, a couple yards away from the pumpkin patch. His clothes were indeed bloody, Ed could see even as he ran headlong down the slope, though he couldn't tell if the blood was Scar's own. Knowing the man's fighting style, it may well not have been, though there was no way to really know. When the blonde teacher reached the bottom of the hill, he shouted, "Scar!" The Ishvaran looked up, and upon recognizing Ed's streaming blonde hair, fell into a fighting stance.

Scar's first strike slid right past Ed's metal arm, already transmuted into a blade through his now-shredded right glove. Neither attack hit, and the two circled around to face each other again. Ed could see that Scar was limping and protecting his left arm a little. So the blood splattered all over his shirt and pants was at least partially his own, though from the sheer quantity, _something_ must have been on the receiving end of his destructive alchemy. Scar wouldn't have been standing if he had lost that much blood. The two foes continued to circle for a moment, and Ed took the opportunity to ask, "Why are you here? I'm the only state alchemist in this place. Wouldn't it be anti-productive to come here?"

His response was another open-palmed swing of Scar's tattooed right arm, which he ducked almost easily. He slashed out with his metal-bladed arm, ripping the Ishvaran's bloody shirt even further. "I met your brother," Scar returned; hardly the answer Ed was looking for. "When you didn't show up with that squinty-eyed one and the big one, like they thought you would, he thought the worst. I believed it, too."

They continued back and forth, not quite as vigorously as they might have had Scar not been injured and Ed out of practice. But Ed knew that he still had the upper hand; Scar was still losing blood, and more and more often he would trip and nearly lose his footing, before righting himself and whirling around. However, the worst part of the predicament by _far_ was that the fight was steadily drawing a group of onlookers – people who had, no doubt, overheard the gossip, and come to take a look at the mysterious person, only to find him already engaged in battle with their alchemy teacher. Ed found himself surprisingly self-conscious of his right arm all the sudden, but tried not to show it.

At long last, when Scar lost his balance for a moment, Ed clapped his palms together and pressed them to the ground. The grass, as well as the dirt underneath it, rippled alarmingly, and Scar was immediately on his back with a heavy _thud_. Ed sprang forward, taking advantage of the sudden opening, and had his automail blade at his opponent's throat. Unfortunately, at the same time, Scar's right hand rested heavily on his leg, right below the joint of the automail limb.

"What's wrong?" Scar asked, voice low enough that the observing students couldn't hear him. "You want to, right? That's why you attacked me; I'm a threat to both you and your brother. You'll just lose a leg in the end. Not like it hasn't happened before, right?" He shifted slightly, the razor-sharp blade nicking him shallowly.

Ed moved the blade away just as much as he replied, "I don't have a genius of an automail mechanic in this place. If I get this one destroyed, I'll have to hobble around for who knows how long until I get back to have her replace it."

The two remained at an impasse for almost a minute longer, before Ed moved away, pulling his leg from Scar's loose grasp, and clapped his hands to transmute the pulled metal blade to its original form. Scar didn't get up – Ed reasoned that he might not be able to – and just laid there on the grass, eyes closed, whispering something that Ed could barely hear – the only word he caught was 'Ishvara.'

Not a minute had passed, the only sound of which was Scar's heavy breathing and the incessant whispering of the students, before the stout Madame Pomfrey could be heard shoving her way through the students towards them; "Excuse me! Kindly get out of the way, please! Move, please!"

She at last broke through the students, and began bustling around Scar. Ed just raised one eyebrow, extremely confused. When Pomfrey asked what had gone on, he said, "I know this guy, we're enemies from way back. I fought him, we tied, and you're… gonna heal him, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, Edward," she said brusquely, pulling out her wand. Ed didn't wait to see what she intended to do; just turned around and walked away. She would take him to the hospital wing and then heal him, she would heal him right there, at some point Dumbledore would be asking questions, whatever happened – Ed knew he would be in on it, from just what he had told Pomfrey.

He went straight back to the Three Broomsticks and ordered another drink, only leaving when Madame Rosmerta chased him out playfully, saying that she was closing down. So it was back to the castle he went, and even as he passed the entrance, McGonagall was waiting there to lead him to the Hospital Wing. Ed said nothing about not needing her to lead him. Her demeanor seemed to say that she would insist on chauffeuring him anyway, so he didn't push the matter.

Up in the Hospital Wing, Ed was not at all surprised to see Scar lying in one of the beds, bandaged around his left shoulder, tattooed right arm lying on top of the pristine white sheets. The Headmaster was sitting next to him on a chair that he had seemingly conjured out of thin air, since Ed saw no others in the vicinity. Ed didn't see Pomfrey, and so reasoned that she was in her office; the rest of the Hospital Wing was deserted.

The young alchemist was uncomfortable about one of the most inconsequential things: he didn't know where to look. He felt that if he kept his gaze on Scar, it would seem too familiar, and if he stayed looking at Albus, it would seem like he was ignoring Scar purposely. So he instead tried to mix it up, looking from Scar to Albus, and repeatedly finding his eyes drawn to the stylized black tattoo on Scar's right arm. "Er… Albus—" he began, but was cut off immediately.

"Poppy tells me that you know this man," the white-haired old wizard said serenely. "I'm curious about how he appeared in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, but more than that, I wonder if you could tell me about this tattoo. From what little I've seen of the alchemy that you do, this seems to belong to that realm of science, so…" He trailed off politely, looking at the alchemy teacher.

Ed shifted uncomfortably. He didn't have to find his voice, however, as Scar decided then to speak up. "You came through the Doors of Truth, right, Edward? Those two that came out without you – they said that you used an array from Xerxes to get out of Gluttony."

"Yeah," Ed said quietly, nodding. "I saw part of it in the ruins, and the rest I found in pieces down there—in the fake Doors. I put it together, and from what you've said it worked, but… I got sidetracked in the Doors, or lost somehow, and I ended up here. In this world." It was surprisingly easy just to stand here and talk to someone who knew something. It was a relief, to talk to somebody who understood where I was coming from, instead of these clueless wizards.

Scar nodded, letting his head fall back against the pillow. "I ran into something in East City," he said. "I couldn't explain what it was, but it may well have been some part of the Doors. I got too close, I guess, and it just grabbed me, and I ended up in that forest."

"So how did you get hurt?" Ed asked, gesturing at the Ishvaran's bandaged shoulder. "I've fought you before, and never even got the upper hand before today. Something messed you up bad."

"It was like a… well, they _looked_ like horse chimeras, but you couldn't get that kind of uniformity in chimeras. They got mad, and fired _arrows_ at me; wouldn't let me close. And then I ran into a bunch of giant spiders…" He shook his head. "Ishvara help me, I don't know what kind of place this is, but from just the local wildlife, I'm not fond of it."

Ed felt a small chuckle rise in his throat at that – but he silenced it quickly. "What's gone on since I left?" he asked instead. "You said that Al had… Do he and Winry and everybody think I'm dead? I did say it to Envy and Ling that… I might not get back through… so they must have thought that that was what happened."

"Yes," Scar said quietly, "It was reported by the military that you died in an alchemic experiment. They had a funeral service that I'm sure half the country wanted to attend, if how crammed the streets of Central were is any indication. I spoke to Alphonse, and he said that he would stay with Miss Rockbell for a while, after which he intended to continue his search for the Philosopher's Stone."

_So you could keep going, Al,_ Ed thought, content at just the thought. _You intend to keep looking. If I can't say anything else… I can say I'm proud. This undertaking, magic, which was for you, hasn't turned up anything. Good luck, brother._ "So I'm dead," he mused aloud. "The Fullmetal Alchemist is dead; it doesn't matter anymore. Why did you attack me when you saw me, then?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, you actually started it," Scar replied somewhat smugly. "You had already transmuted your automail by the time I saw you. It was self-defense."

"You would have destroyed my leg in self-defense if I hadn't stopped?"

"What's done is done, Elric."

Ed just snorted at that. He couldn't think up a response, and didn't try too extensively; he instead turned to Albus, who was sitting there, eyebrows raised just slightly. "So, you needed to know something," he said. "What was it?"

The Headmaster stood up then, replying calmly, "No, Edward, I know enough. Minerva and I will leave you two to talk." He left, as he said, gesturing for his Headmistress to follow him out of the room. He could hear the two of them talking in hushed voices, but didn't bother being curious. He just turned back to Scar.

"You say you came through something that seemed related to the Doors. What would have made you think it was that?" He stood up and slid into Albus's empty chair, fiddling nervously with an exposed gear in his wrist. This still wasn't a position he was comfortable with: sitting and chatting with the man for whom he had had every reason to fear his life before he came through the Doors. He almost couldn't stand this almost-familiarity, but he had to figure out what had happened.

Scar didn't say anything for a few seconds, but eventually found the words he wanted to say. "That spot in East City – it was like a hole, except it just appeared in the middle of the air. It was pretty small, but I couldn't tell what it was. All I knew was that the color didn't match the surroundings, so something was strange. I got closer, and it felt like it pulled me in… When I opened my eyes again, I was in this big, white space that was empty except for three different copies of the Doors of Truth, as I've seen them illustrated."

Ed cut the Ishvaran off suddenly, saying, "Yes, I saw that, too. Did you see any way to tell them apart? I was… distracted, and so I didn't pay much attention to the Doors themselves." He hesitated momentarily, thinking of Al's body inside the Doors, waiting for him. It was a sobering thought, for sure.

"There were differences," Scar replied softly. "Subtle, but there. I was inside there for a little while, so I got a clear look. They all three had the same design, but two were plain black, and the other looked… red. And one of the two normal ones, it was breaking at the top. Just… cracks running on it. I don't even know what that means… But this strange figure appeared, and told me, 'tell that kid that even I can't keep this up long.' And then these hands came out of the Doors that were breaking, and pulled me into it."

"The normal one was the true Doors of Truth," Ed murmured, right hand clenched tightly at just the memory. "Inside, there are immense seas of knowledge. I've been in there… pleasant isn't a word I'd use for the experience. The red one must have been Gluttony's fake Doors, which just leads to this giant, endless sea of blood and stone and whatever else that monster has swallowed. And I guess… that the last one leads here, to England." His thoughts were more concentrated on what the Doors had said, about not being able to keep it up. _Keep what up?_ he wondered. _Is it perhaps talking about the third Doors crumbling?_ He voiced his thoughts aloud, just out of curiosity about what Scar thought.

The dark-skinned man hesitated before offering his opinion. "I believe that it did mean that," he said slowly, pausing to think about it. "It seemed… a little worried, really. When I was being pulled into the third one, I got a perspective, and it looked like… it was trying to side with the original one, and avoiding the other two, but mostly the crumbling one. Even something like the Doors of Truth fears change, I suppose."

Ed nodded in agreement. The two were silent for several moments, during which Madame Pomfrey returned. She unwrapped the bandage from Scar's shoulder, revealing a purplish goo that she vanished with a flick of her wand. She healed the wound directly afterwards with little effort, explaining that Scar had been bitten by an acromantula, and she had needed to leech the venom out before she could heal the wound. She said that she would allow Scar to leave then, so the two alchemists bid her goodbye and went to walk around the castle.

Scar was more than a little disgusted by magic. He used alchemy disdainfully, he said, but magic just seemed like a lazy man's version of alchemy. At least with alchemy, he said, there was memorization and science to it, but magic was just waving a stick and saying words and having things happen. Ed found that he agreed completely, and said that even though he was slowly learning how to do magic, he hardly ever used it, finding alchemy more than adequate for whatever he needed to do.

Eventually, the two wound up at the Headmaster's office. Ed knew that a decision needed to be reached about what to do. Scar was here on accident, with no intention of doing harm to anyone here, and Ed was more than glad to have a companion from Amestris, even if it _was_ someone who had previously tried to kill him. So he stepped up to the wooden door and raised his hand to knock with that in mind.

Before his gloveless automail hand could even touch the wood, Albus's voice came from inside; "Come in," he called. A little irked at having the metaphoric rug yanked from under his feet before he could step on it, Ed pulled the door open, and he and Scar stepped inside, letting the door close by itself behind them. Albus was sitting at his desk, and when he looked up from the piece of parchment that he had been reading, gestured for the two alchemists to sit down at the chairs in front of his desk. Ed sat, but Scar chose to remain standing.

"Back in Amestris," Ed began, "this person was known as 'the alchemist killer.' He targeted state alchemists such as myself, who worked for the local military. However, since I've come here, I was announced as MIA in Amestris, so I'm no longer considered Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and Scar no longer has any reason to want me dead." He paused momentarily; "Quite the contrary, I'd like to ask your permission for him to stay here. I think that with his help, I might be able to sort out what's going wrong with the Doors of Truth, which seem to be breaking, and letting Amestris leak together with this world, Britain. I have a feeling that if this isn't stopped, the result could be disastrous for both countries."

Albus nodded understandingly, though Ed thought, frustrated, that he probably didn't understand half as well as he let on about. But he was the kind of person that preferred for his image to be as a kind, all-knowing, benevolent old man, Albus was, so Ed let him have his fun, and just waited for an actual response. The headmaster seemed to consider it for a while, before he finally opened his mouth to make the verdict. "If you can assure me that no harm will come to any of the students, Edward Elric, then I have no issue with this man remaining in the shelter of the school." Ed nodded, and glanced to Scar, who caught the look and also nodded. Albus waved his hand agreeably, and said, "Well then, welcome to Hogwarts, Mr.…?"

"I renounced my name long ago," Scar said quietly. "I'm called Scar now." He sat down at long last, just as Ed stood up to leave, and there was a moment of confusion, before they both made for the door. Albus called them both back for a moment longer, though.

"I will have your rooms expanded to make room for Mr. Scar to stay, Edward, so I don't think it's wise to go in there until after dinner, or something might get lost in the move. Just a suggestion, of course, though I'm not really sure what will happen if you insist on going in." Ed got the idea, and just nodded. He was set on going to the kitchens, and then maybe to see how well the Room of Requirement he had heard about worked.

Things were resolved, for the time being. But with the disturbing news about the Doors of Truth, nothing would stay settled for very long. It was only a matter of time.


	7. Author's Note

Author's Note:

At the moment, the storyline for this story is very messed up; there are a lot of extraneous things that need to be cut out because I'll never work them in, so I'm putting it on hold for now in order to clean all that up. But don't worry; before too much longer it'll be back without all the ridiculous loose ends, and then I can continue on with what I intended for this story originally. Thanks for your patience!


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